Disclaimer

All photos on this blog were shot by me and are not to be used for any purpose without my express permission.I reserve the right to moderate comments on this blog as I see fit. This may include deletion.The opinions expressed on this blog are solely mine and do not represent those of my employer.The opinions expressed on those blogs in the "Who I'm Reading" section of this blog belong solely to their authors and do not represent mine.

Monday, April 27, 2009

This weekend, three quarters of our little family was hit with a merciless, weekend-ruining stomach bug.

It hit Asher on Friday.Then Abba on Saturday.Then Ima on Sunday.

We were all pretty sick.We're talking laid-up-on-the-couch,can't-move-a-muscle,(would-rather-be-in-labor)kind of sick.

At various moments on Sunday,one or the other of usmanaged to hoist up the cameraso I could document this little adventure for you all.

Asher indulged in an unorthodox, middle-of-the-floor nap:

A lot of time was spent with Sesame Street clips via Abba's laptop:

After that, Asher lounged for hours without pantsbut with his favorite shoes (thanks Logie):

As we enjoyed a good long sit outside at dusk on Sunday(the first time we made it out of the house all weekend)Asher improved our spirits (and our toes and legs, obviously)by artfully coating them in watercolors.The whole time,

Friday, April 24, 2009

Dear Rami,Today you are five months old.Every time I kiss your face,your usually exuberant smileshifts to one of quiet, contented delight.This trait, especially,endears you to memore than I can express.Love,Ima

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

"You will only expect a few words - what will those be?When the heart is full it may run over,but the real fullness stays within.Words can never tell you -however, form them, transform them anyway -how perfectly dear you are to meperfectly dear to my heart and soul."~From Robert Browning to Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 12 September 1846

On Tuesday nights, I get to lead a dinnertime Jewish text study at Hillel.(Jewish wisdom studied - and continued - by the brightest of students. Amazing.)Consequently, my very late arrival at our humble abodeoccurs as an endcap to David's very long day,after Asher's bedtime,and at the end of Rami's rope.

In our family's division of labor,I am generally in chargeof the food in our belliesand the prayers on our lips.

So, in my absence, a Tuesday letter is leftalongside a slow-cooker dinnerto remind the men in my lifethat these things have not been forgotten.

The content remains mostly the same week after week:

"Hello my loves -Asher: I hope you had a fun day. Please do not forget to say your Shema. I love you.Rami: I hope you had a good day. I will be home soon for snuggles and love. Please be good to Abba in the meantime. I love you.David: Dinner is in the slow cooker. I love you like coffee in the morning (or alternate similie.)"

These letters are written in a bound book,page after page repetitive from week to week,not because the instruction is neededor because my return is uncertainor because my love for the guys is unknown to them

but because the letter representsthe part of my heart that waits for them at homeon nights when I do not.

Friday, April 17, 2009

One amazing thing about Passover is that it offers a respite from the daily grind, usually when it is desperately needed.Two days of that whole "no-work" thing in the middle of two consecutive weeks proved, once again, to be a breath of fresh air.After a morning where nothing was accomplished except the all important Breakfast and Naptime, the boys and I enjoyed a delicious holiday lunch (made all the more delicious because I didn't have to cook it) with some fabulous Buckeyes, and returned home for a full afternoon of nothing-much-at-all planned.

As I deposited armfuls of stuff just inside the door, my ears were alerted to a suddenly whiny boy.Asher's arm poked insistently back toward the door. "Osside!"

Outside was wet. And muddy. And chilly. And misting. Did I mention wet?

Hoping to preserve the dignity of my hair and the cleanliness of our floors (both leaving much to be desired in the first place,) I tried to direct Asher toward pursuits of the less-wet-and-muddy variety. "Asher, look! Wouldn't you like to play with your animals? Or your cars?"

A tiny foot was stamped, the level of whine increased, and the arm continued to jab at the door."OssIDE! OSS-IDE!!!"

Clearly I suffered some mental deficiency that prevented me from seeing the clear need to be outside.

Or I was just plain mean.

Or profoundly un-fun.

I glanced at Rami, solidly snoozing, despite the ruckus, in his car seat. This didn't help my cause.

Asher's pleading eyes remained fixed on mine.

So, outside we went.

The work involved mostly finding pinecones and throwing them.Occasionally, the soccer ball was carried and deposited elsewhere.Then, of course, we had to run up hills and back down again.Which caused a tumble, which caused dirty hands, which abruptly ended Asher's fun.Both Ima and boy were now thoroughly sodden and muddied.A good time was had by all (including Rami, who enjoyed an unusually quiet nap.)

Thursday, April 16, 2009

A few weeks ago,it was dreary outside.Inside our housewas a sunny boywith a bright red balloon.

David decidedto contribute some of our sunshineto the overcast sky.

Here's the shot.*

_____*In an effort to share more of my shots of the boys without the requirement of brilliant flashes of inspiration for posts, I'm going to try one of these "photo-challenge-of-the-week" gigs.If it seems tacky,or annoying, or boring,or altogether uninspired just say so in the comments....(you know I crave your approval.)

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

{My dad's birthday, circa 1978. He was clearly partying enough for the both of us.}

Today is my birthday.

I love my birthday as much as the next person - how could you not, with all the good wishes, fun presents, and the cake (oh, the cake!)?

I have learned one surprising thing about birthdays since I became an Ima:

I never anticipatedthat one day my birthdaywould mean far, far less to methan the birthdays of my children.

You see, I believe that we are defined by the people that surround us.On the day that I was born, I became someone. Just someone.

On the day my children were born, however,

I became an Ima.

Someone who feeds and loves and hugs

someone who kisses hurt fingers to make them all better

someone who is sought to quash the scariest of nightmares.

(And this made me realize...)On the day my siblings were born, I became a sister.Someone who got to share childhood memories, whispered secrets, and love-piles.

Someone who understands family dramas and jokes alike.

Someone who snuggled under the covers on weekend mornings well into teen-dom.

Someone who is a best friend through thick and thin.

So, whileI still love my birthday,It's not the day on which my heart sings in celebration.I actually get a lot more excited about my Ima-birthdays and my sister-birthdays.(So, do you think I could get some cake on those days, too? Did I mention how much I love cake?)____What is the greatest lesson you have learned about birthdays?

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

In each generation, every individual must look at him or herself as though he or she had personally made the Exodus from Egypt, as it is said,"You shall tell your children on that day, 'it is because of what Adonai did for me when I went free out of Egypt.'" (from the Passover Haggadah)

In other words,

We are part of a storybut the only reason we must tell itis for the sake of our childrenwho will then become part of the storyand then tell it to their children.

Children learn in many different ways.Our Passover celebrations provide several different methodsfor teaching them the storyof the Exodus from Egypt.One of those is getting rid of all our leavened products for the week.

(If it were not for this beautiful and compelling drash,there is absolutely no way I would have been freezing my tuchus offat the crack of dawnteaching my 21-month-oldto burn Ritz crackerson our porch.)

May your Seders be awesome and your Passover sweet.

{also enjoy some more snaps from our Passover preparations this past week}

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Well, we're on to the second portion in the book of Leviticus.Which means writing "Parsha for Parenting" just got a lot more difficult.You see, the book of Leviticus is all about the sacrifices in the Temple.It talks all about the sacrifices:When, Who, Why, HowEven what to wear.

Of course, Jews no longer offer sacrifices at the Temple.I've heard of precocious children, in preparation for a bar mitzvah around this time of year,trying to re-enact the ancient Temple rites.

This afternoon I was home alone with two boys and dozens of pounds of meat to freeze.Rami was characteristically content to remain strapped into his car seat, observing.In the midst of dividing chicken cutlets and stew beef,I realized Ashi was sounding busy but quiet...